


Approval

by Lady_Phenyx



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dancetale AU, Fluff, Gen, Past Misgendering, past emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 18:31:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9084631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Phenyx/pseuds/Lady_Phenyx
Summary: Frisk isn't used to anyone approving of anything they do...but maybe things are different Underground.





	

Frisk wasn't sure they knew what it felt like to have someone approve of you, or be proud of what you did.

 

It was part of what drove them up Mt. Ebbott that day. A lifetime of never doing anything right, being told that they couldn't be a _they_ but had to choose a gender, preferably the one that matched their body, of being told they were stupid and useless and worthless, of never hearing a kind word thrown their way.

 

They weren't sure what to expect when they actually woke up at the bottom of the shaft, bruised and battered but very much alive.

 

Their first reception, meeting the flower and learning about the strange ways of the Underground (dance, for everything, from battle to conversation? Frisk had always longed to dance, but like everything else, it wasn't for them. Too slow, too clumsy, too stupid to learn, the words were repeated in their head on a loop) wasn't like anything they'd ever imagined. Flowey they could almost understand – no one had ever treated Frisk differently than that – but Toriel.

 

Toriel. She was one of the first who'd ever defended Frisk, the first to really be kind to them without expecting something in return. Now, walking along behind the goat monster and holding her hand, Frisk wondered why. Probably because she had just met Frisk and didn't know yet just how disappointing Frisk was.

 

They reached a dummy, and Toriel turned to look down at Frisk with a gentle smile. “My child, I explained about how fighting works in this world, but you have yet to try to defend yourself. Have you a style of dance you prefer?”

 

Oh. So this was it, their first chance to disappoint the first person who'd been kind to them in ages. Slowly Frisk shook their head, looking towards the floor.

 

“Do not worry, my child. For many monsters, it takes many tries to find the style of dance that truly speaks to their SOUL, though others are lucky enough to know from birth what theirs is. I am sure you will discover yours soon, as well.”

 

Frisk stared at her in shock at the gentle, reassuring answer. Toriel continued to smile, patently waiting for Frisk.

 

“Whenever you are ready, approach the dummy,” she prompted. “Do not worry about your form or your style, my child. Just do what feels right and natural. The magic of the Underground will help you find your way.”

 

Hesitantly, unwilling to disappoint their new friend yet sure they were about to, Frisk approached the dummy. They glanced back and Toriel nodded approvingly.

 

The first approval they'd gotten in years seemed to fill Frisk with determination, and they turned back to the dummy.

 

Without thinking, they went up onto the balls of their feet, in a position they had heard once was called _demi-pointe_ , and began to dance.

 

They swooped and turned, face lighting up with the joy of the movement, unconsciously and joyfully urging the dummy to join them.

 

The pair swooped and twirled around each other, Frisk light and fluttery as a small bird while the dummy pounded around in circles. The dummy's dance was a bit clumsy but heartfelt, and filled Frisk with both joy and determination.

 

When the dance was over, Frisk gave the dummy something between a bow and a curtsey, returned by the dummy, suddenly painfully aware of the dirt on their face, the smudges and tears in their clothing and their overall state.

 

Neither the dummy or Toriel seemed to notice or care about how Frisk looked at the moment, however, both looking at the child with approval that made Frisk glow.

 

“Oh, ballet! I cannot tell you how long it has been since I have seen a ballet dancer, my child. I tend to a waltz, myself. Oh, but that was lovely. Come, you must be hungry after such a performance. I shall have to make a special pie tonight.”

 

Holding Toriel's hand and turning back to wave at the dummy, Frisk thought that if this was what the Underground was like, then they never wanted to leave.


End file.
